


The Tower Job

by fanboi214



Category: Leverage
Genre: First Time, Ghosts, M/M, Undercover Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanboi214/pseuds/fanboi214
Summary: The crew has their sites set on a couple of wealthy con artists who live in a castle. Nate wants to lean into their fear of the paranormal to convince the couple to unload some 'haunted' art at a steep steep discount. But when Eliot goes undercover he begins to encounter some things he can't quite explain.Writing brought to you by this prompt:The Object: A possessed plush toyThe Character: A ThiefThe Setting: A Tower
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 5
Kudos: 16





	1. The Set Up

**Author's Note:**

> I marked this as explicit. The first chapter is pretty PG but the plan is for this not to stay that way. 
> 
> So this is my first Levage fic. To be honest I only have a casual viewing relationship with the show so I apologize if my tone isn't a hundred percent dialed in for some of the characters. I hope you enjoy though!

Parker and Hardison stood behind the table staring at the screen. Eliot watched from across the room, hands crossed over his chest, as they cocked their head from side to side nearly in unison like some sort of pair of inquisitive puppies. Sophie and Nate strolled in after a few moments, and without bothering to look back Hardison asked, “What are we looking at?” 

“The Agony of Victory,” Nate responded. 

“Agony I get. Victory I’m not seeing.” Parker responded.

“It’s one of Picasso’s lesser known paintings,” Nate continued gesturing to the image, “But it can still fetch at least fifty thousand dollars at auction, which is where it was going to be. You see it was in the private collection of one Agnes Millman,” Nate clicked and the image changed to an elderly woman. “Mrs. Millman was a lovely woman, no kids, sizable art collection all of it willed to a local homeless shelter for their charity auction.”

“I take it that didn’t happen” Sophia asked. 

“Two months ago Mrs. Millman made a few friends,” Nate clicked the remote again and two more pictures pop up “Arthur and Terri Wirthmore, a couple of high society artist who happened to befriend Mrs. Millman and weasle their way into her will. 

“So they killed her?” Eliot asked flatly. 

“Doubtful. Agnes was in the late stages of Alzheimers when they met her. Realistically the changes to her will wouldn’t even hold up in court, but she had no kids or other family so the likelihood of anyone taking this to court-“ 

“Zippo.” Hardison finished. 

“So what’s the plan?” Sophie questioned. 

“The thing about the Wirthmores is in addition to being disgustingly wealthy and deeply classist, they’re also unbelievably superstitious- 

“Don’t say it.” Hardison said shaking his head. 

“So we’re going to convince them the painting is haunted by Agnes’s spirit” Nate finished. Hardison dropped his head into hands. “Once they’re spooked they’ll donate the paintings to the charity auction.” 

Hardison let out a heavy sigh and looked up, “You realize this is the same plan every villain in Scooby Doo had.”

“Luckily we’re more competent than the villains in Scooby Doo,” Nate retorted. “Hardison, I’m going to need you to cook up some spooky internet stories about this painting, nice and bloody. Also going to need you to flicker some lights, turn some appliance on and off, that kinda thing.” Hardison let out a frustrated sighs, which Nate took as an agreement. “Parker, this is gonna a fun one for you.”

“Do I get to be the ghost? Parker asked excitedly. 

“Basically. We’re going to sneak you in at night, move some things, maybe make some noises without being seen.” 

Parked looked giddy, “I get to be the ghost.” 

“And who am I?” Sophie asked. 

“Madame Zostra Arthur’s new personal psychic.” Nate answered.

“I’m not hearing a lot of skull cracking in this plan,” Eliot grumbled. 

“Not if all goes to plan,” Nate said. “But it can’t help to have some firepower on site and the Wirthmores are in the market for a new personal chef.” Eliot let out a low, hmmm. “Also it gives us access.”

Nate clicks to the next image, a sweeping estate centered around an honest to God castle. “Wait hold up. That’s a castle. That’s an actual castle? We flying to England or something?” Hardison asked.

“Nope. Newport, Rhode Island.” Nate answered

“You’re telling me these people already own a castle and they’re still stealing from old ladies and charities?” Eliot asked shaking his head. He thought he’d seen it all. 

“They’re real gems.” 

“Then let’s get going.” Eliot replied. 

***

“The Wirthmores are rather… particular people,” Seymour the estate manager told Eliot as he made his way to his room. “They’ll ask to try knew things but truly they only want the same five to ten meals cooked for them. It should be a relatively easy position for you.” Eliot let out a grunt which Seymour took to mean a modest approval, not that he actually cared. “That said they’re not without their eccentricities.”

“What does that mean?” Eliot asked a cocked eyebrow. 

Seymour let out a sigh, “As you no doubt surmised the residence is very old. As such the Wirthmores have done their best to preserve it as authentically as they can. The furniture, the decor, the clothing they have us wear it’s quite… traditional.” Seymour said with a forced smile. 

Eliot arched an eyebrow. He looked the man’s penguin suit up and down. Classic butler, like straight out of Downton Abbey. Eliot would strangle anyone who tried to put him in that get up. Luckily he wasn’t a butler in this con, he was a chef. “We’re talking full white hat?”

“I’m afraid so,” Seymour sighed. Eliot grunted once more and nodded. Perhaps in approval? Who knew. Who cared, the chefs in this place came and went like nobody’s business. 

“We almost there?” Eliot asked curtly. The pair were located in the souther tower where, apparently the staff lived. Haunted or not the whole place weirded him out. Who chose to live in a castle? It was all so old and stone and cold. And he felt like they’d been walking for an hour, but I guess that was how one treated the help in the day when castles were built, and also in the modern age.  
“Your room is right through this door,” Seymour said as the winding stairs finally came to a stop. “But I should warn you that it may not be what you’re expecting. You see several generations ago the family had a son whose… disposition was frowned on at the time. The family kind of banished him to this room when he refused to abide by their condition. He was responsible for the furnishing and as the Wirthmore’s want to preserve the heritage of the establishment it’s forbid to change or move anything you find inside-“ 

“Sure, whatever,” Eliot grumbled as he pushed the door open and stepped through. 

Pink. Pink curtains. Pink sheets. Pink upholstery. Ostrich feather accents. The sheets satiny and frilly. Eliot turned back to Seymour, “His disposition?” 

“Sorry.” Seymour shrugged. “If you need anything my room is at the bottom of the stairs. If not well I’ll see you in the morning for your first day of work.” And with that he was quick to depart. 

Eliot pulled the door shut, and tossed his suitcase up on his new lush down feather bed. He gave the room another once around. It could be worse. Not his style but at least it all made sense. And it wasn’t the pepto-bismal pink, more subdued and easy on the eyes. Besides this was all temporary he didn’t have to like it. As he did a stroll around the room, one thing in particular caught his eye, an old beat up Teddy Bear. The stuffed animal sat atop the dresser, looking a bit rougher for wear. Eliot picked the bear up and as soon as he did he felt it vibrate, “Time for cuddles!” The bear exclaimed. 

Eliot felt like an idiot, he’d almost jumped out of his skin when that thing talked. He hadn’t expected it. Now he felt like an idiot. With a chuckle he set the bear back down. He had to get his nerve back up, if he was this jumpy about everything it would be a long job. Eliot placed the bear back. He wasn’t sure what time it was. There didn’t seem to be any clocks in this room, but it was definitely late enough for him to do what he had to do. 

***

Hardison fidgeted uncomfortably. This was not at all what he was used to. He normally did his job, far, far away in the safety of his van. This hands on shit was for other people, people like Parker who was so nonchalant she was bored. The pair were at the base of the tower waiting for their sign. Hardison literally hiding in a shrub, Parker just standing out in the open apparently comfortable that no one is approaching. Maybe she knew something he didn’t, because moments later two climbing ropes cam rolling down the side of the building. “Finally,” Parker said excitedly, sparing no time before grabbing the rope and hooking in. Leaning back she walked up the very steep, very tall, stone wall like it was second nature. Hardison let out a sigh. He had to stop agreeing to this rope shit. 

***  
Parker was the first one through the window, of course. She rolled in through the window landing firmly on her feet, letting out a “Wheeeee!” in the process. She unhooked herself, winding the rope up behind her. 

Eliot leaned over the window chuckling to himself as he saw Hardison flailing his way up the wall. “You wanna maybe get in here before someone sees you?” 

“Don’t.” Hardison growled, his forearms burning from holding his weight up. He needed to get this over though. He lifted his leg to take the next step and he was completely thrown off balance. Losing his footing he was convinced he was about to fall to his death, until he realized what was happening. Eliot had begun tugging on the rope, pulling Hardison up as he dangled helplessly in mid air. Eliot seemed to have no problem hoisting the other man up and through the window. Still Haridson made a rough landing colliding with the bruiser, who tumbled back. The end result left an embarrassed and flustered Hardison face to face with Eliot. The tech genius pushed himself up and groused, “That’s NOT what I signed up for.” 

“It worked,” Eliot said defensively. 

“And it was a lot more fun to watch.” Parker grinned. 

Hardison glared at Parker, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“Fine.” Parker shot him a deeply disquieting smirk before heading to the door. “I’m off to be a ghost.” She made a spooky ‘Ooooo’ noise before disappearing into the dark night. 

Eliot had gathered himself and was back upright. He gestured to the suitcase full of computer bits and wires he had parked by the door. “Just set up your tech nonsense so I can go to bed.” 

Hardison began unpacking his equipment, setting himself up at an old wooden desk that was jammed against one of the walls. “I know you don’t think you’re going to be taking that bed.”

“I know you’re not planning on staying in my room overnight.” Eliot’s brow furrowed. 

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Hardison asked pivoting to him. “You think I’m making that climb every night? Your locks are long but you’re no Rapunzel.” 

Eliot let out a grumble and shook his head. “It’s my room.” 

“And I’m the one who needs to use it.” He finished snapping the final cord in place and walked over to Eliot. 

“Fine,” Eliot gritted, “Let’s arm wrestle for the bed.” 

Hardison was never going to agree to that. They both knew as much, “Rock, paper, scissors.” 

Eliot didn’t love that. He was not going to do a strategy game against Hardison any more than Hardison would agree to something physical against him. He reached into his pocket and muttered, “Call it in the air.” 

As luck would have it, Hardison called heads and was named the victor. The two men agreed that for the duration of the stay they’d take turns. One would sleep on the chaise and the other would sleep in the bed. As Hardison won the coin flip he’d get to take the bed the first night. And just as everything seemed sorted Eliot stripped his shirt up and over his head. It was jarring, in it’s suddenness. In all their time together Hardison didn’t think he ever saw Eliot without a shirt. He looked exactly like ‘the muscle’ of the team was expected to look. Strong pecs, a tapered waist, biceps that seemed somehow even larger without a shirt. Yet he wasn’t overly jacked like so many guys. His thighs were thick, proportionate. Wait… his thighs. Hardison blinked and realized that Eliot was now only in boxers. As the man’s thumbs began to dip below the waistband Hardison shouted, “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! The hell are you doing?” 

“Getting ready for bed.” Eliot replied simply.  
“Naked? You’re getting Naked?”

“It’s how I sleep,” Eliot said simply. 

“We’re in a castle! No insulation. Freezing New England temperatures. You’re gonna sleep naked on our couch?” Hardison asked in disbelief. 

“I have a blanket.” Eliot countered. Hardison let out a sigh. It was Eliot’s body he could treat it however he wanted… even if it was dumb. 

***

Hardison was right. That in and about itself was deeply annoying. Yet it was unavoidable. Eliot found himself awake in the middle of the night, the icy winds echoing around the room and snapping against his bare skin. His teeth chattered. His whole body shook. His head still half spinning from sleep it took Eliot a moment to realize his blanket was missing. He sat up and gave the floor a quick glance but the blanket was nowhere to be seen. Groggily pushing to his feet, he nearly snapped his neck on the stupid plush bear. “God damnit!” Eliot grumbled steadying himself against the back of the chair. 

The bear let out its CREEPY little laugh as Eliot’s heel sunk into its plush chest. “Time for cuddles!” It’s high mechanical squeal echoed. Half asleep and the other half angry Eliot searched the room for his blanket. It was nowhere to be found. He didn’t know what prompted him to stick his head out the window but he finally did and there was his blanket. Several stories down flapping in the shrubs below… with his clothes. 

“The hell?” Eliot grumbled. His entire body seized by another sudden chill, worse than anything he’d ever felt. 

“Time for cuddles!” The bear extolled again.

Eliot head snapped to the left. The naked hulk lumbered towards the toy. He tenderly picked it up and turned it over. How did it get down here? Was it blown besides his bed? And how did it go off. It didn’t seem broken. Eliot squeezed the Teddy which again rewarded him with its little laugh before announcing it was time for cuddles. It was clearly operated by touch. And no one was in here with them unless… “Parker?” Eliot rasped in a whisper. Silence. “Parker??” He put the bear back on the dresser where it belonged. It didn’t matter now. He just needed to cover up somehow.

Another grumble let loose from his chest when he realized his suitcase wasn’t where he left it at all. Fuck it. It was late and he was tired and maybe going insane. He crawled under the covers on the free side of the bed. Eliot shut his eyes, hoping to fall asleep once more. And he did. His head sinking into the soft mattress, the silk sheets wrapping his body in smoothness as making him nice and toasty. His eyes fluttered as he heard it… “Time for cuddles!” Eliot brow furrowed… that was odd. Wasn’t it? He tried to focus in on that but he was taken completely off guard as Hardison’s body rolled back and collided with his. Eliot felt the breath catch in his chest. The the back of the other man’s head nestled up against his collar bone.

“Time for cuddles,” He heard Hardison mumble quietly under his breath. Now that was definitely unusual. Hardison didn’t talk like that, even if it was time for cuddles… which it was… wasn’t it. Eliot’s eyes shut and his mind slipped off to dreamland his beefy arms naturally and slipping around the frame of the man who was now pressed against him.


	2. The Con

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unexplainable things are happening around Eliot. As it escalates he's not sure if he's losing his mind but he is sure the hijinks are very intentionally steering him into Hardison's arms.

Eliot was awakened by a sharp jab below his rib. He let out an annoyed groan before his face squished into a confused expression. Everything seemed foreign to him; the lumpy mattress, the scratchy low-grade sheets, the leaky cobbled roof, and most of all the depression in the bed next to him. It had been so long since he woke up with someone behind him, their gravity literally pulling the world beside him down. Eliot turned his head to the side and his eyes went wide. It was Hardison. He suddenly remembered everything. Where he was, how he got here it all flooded back to him and he shot up stock straight. What the hell must Hardison think about this. Eliot couldn’t read his face. He was definitely giving him an alarmed look. But it wasn’t anger or confusion just alarm. It was almost like Hardison was trying to silently send him some mental message. “Look, Har-“ 

There was a deliberate throat clearing noise from the opposite side of the room. Eliot’s head snapped over to the doorway and he realized what Hardison had been trying to tell him. Seymour, dressed in full old-timey butler regalia, stood at their threshold. “Mr. Marley,” he began, invoking Eliot’s current alias in as haughty a ton as a human could muster, “I came here to ensure you knew the way to the kitchen. If you remember you are meant to be downstairs and prepared to begin work in ten minutes.” 

“Uh, yeah. Of course… I’ll be right out in a minute.” Eliot said, flustered an unusual look on the lummox. 

“Please do be brisk. I’ll be out here.” Seymour tut-tutted 

“The hell man?!” Hardison growled in a stage whisper, as he slid out from under the covers. He was wearing baggy sweats and was shirtless was naked from the waist up. “You wanna explain why you were spooning me when I woke up?” 

Eliot found himself at a bit of a loss for words. His mouth atypically dry and suddenly he was stuttering, “ It was cold and the blanket went missing…” 

Hardison’s eyes drifted over to the chaise. “That blanket?” 

Eliot blinked in disbelief. He got out of bed, paying no attention to his own nudity or the Hardison’s muffled reaction to it. Eliot padded across the room and picked up the blanket, “This wasn’t here.” He pivoted toward Hardison, who rolled his eyes. 

Hardison, “I’m sure it disappeared and reappeared in the morning.” 

Eliot insisted, “No you don’t understand it wasn’t here!”

“Whatever,” Hardison waved him off. “You’ve already blown my cover. Put some pants on before you lose your job.” The minute the thought occurred to him, Eliot knew it was true. He dreaded it. He looked over at the corner and his suitcase was sitting there, exactly where it was meant to be. “And, by the way, you could’ve at least put on some underwear. Unless that magically disappeared last night too.”

“Enough,” Eliot growled as he hastily slid into the clothes which were very much still here. They hadn’t been last night. He looked RIGHT at this spot. Was it too dark? Was he going crazy? No it wasn’t there. Maybe the suitcase he missed but the blanket… he was freezing. Parker had to be pranking him or something.

Hardison watched as his new bedmate got dressed, his head still messed from sleep. And that outfit, God he looked like a Muppet. He’d have to remember to tease him for that later. Eliot hurried out the door and Hardison settled into his chair at the computer, wondering how Eliot planned to spin this. He’d probably say they were a couple. That would explain why he was here and seeing as they were caught in bed together it was believable enough. That of course was linked to the bigger question. What on Earth possessed Eliot to get under the sheets with him. And not just that but to scoop him up. Hardison had done his share of spooning in his life, but he wasn’t ever the little spoon. He understood why people liked it. There was something comforting about just being enraptured in warmth.

***

Seymour finished showing Eliot around the kitchen. The whole time Eliot was visibly flustered, a small but important change from his more standard grumpiness. The whole time the other man was prattling on he just was looking for a chance to cut in, but the overrated butler continued on, “Now that you know where everything is, take a moment to prepare yourself and develop a comfort level. Arthur and Terri will be down shortly to introduce themselves and get to know you. I should warn you they know nothing of the culinary world but have a habit of talking of all things as if they’re experts. If they say something absurdly incorrect or incoherent it’s best you just nod.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Eliot said. “Umm, about this morning. I didn’t really expect you bust into my room like that.” 

“Nor did I.” Seymour replied curtly. “But you weren’t answering and time was thin.” 

“I’m sorry about Alec I-“ Eliot began.

“Room and board is provided for all staff members as well as their spouses-“ 

“We are not married.” Eliot said with a knee jerk impulse. 

“Partner, boyfriend, whatever you wish to call him is not of my concern. What is of my concern is your ability to prepare and serve meals in a timely manner.” 

“Won’t be a problem,” Eliot assured. 

Two new voices approached from the distance, “I’m telling ya it was in the drawing room before,” a female voice whined, so nasal and sharp the words could pierce eardrums. 

“It’s a two hundred pound marble statue, Terri. It doesn’t just get up and walk around,” a man’s voice replied, a deep baritone that trailed off into a cough. The two figures entered the room and they were certainly a striking pair. Festooned with jewelry despite even in their bathrooms. He hair up in some sort of intricate updo that must’ve taken forever to accomplish. He carried around a smoking pipe but it didn’t seem to be lit or really serve any purpose. They were a pair who could buy class despite their best efforts. Basing their idea of what was ‘fancy’ on some child’s cartoon from the eighties… it was sad. 

***  
It hadn’t taken Hardison terribly long to get into the heating and the electricity. Parker had positioned some lipstick cameras discreetly around the place, so he also whipped up a primitive surveillance grid in no time. But the thing about this job was, hauntings didn’t really tend to occur while the sun was up. Which left a lot of downtime, a lot of time survey his new surroundings. As he made his rounds the small teddy bear caught his eye. He picked it up casually tossing it from one hand to the next. His mind wandered, wondering about last night. What on Earth came over Eliot last night. He was probably just cold, like he said. I mean, what other explanation was there. It was a slow obsessive day. Hardison bounced around the room for hours, it feeling more and more like a cage every minute. He was able to sink a ton of time into internet browsing. Luckily no one had showed up and asked him to leave. As far as he could tell his system, maybe they didn’t even register he was really here. He had been wondering if Eliot would return after breakfast…or lunch… or dinner… but whatever his duties Eliot did reappear in the bedroom until seven at night. 

He seemed tired and bit distracted. The first words out of his mouth were, “Get me Parker;” Eliot grumbled. 

Hardison swivled around in his chair, batting his eyes at Eliot, “Welcome home, honey.” 

Eliot rolled his eyes and repeated, “Parker.” 

Hardison slid a set of headphones on, luckily their ‘ghost’ had an earpiece in. “Parker, Eliot wants to talk to you… I don’t know.” Hardison directed the next part to Eliot, “Is it an emergency.” 

Eliot opened his mouth and then shut it again. “Nah,” Eliot muttered shaking it off. 

“Then she said she’ll find you when she finds you.” Hardison relayed. He couldn’t get over how unusually squirrely the tough guy was being. He tossed his headset down on the table and asked, “You alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Eliot insisted. 

As the sun set, Hardison’s work began in earnest. Coordinating with Parker he made sure to flicker the right lights, create a cold spot or two. Nothing crazy. Gotta start slow to make it believable. As he went about his work he noticed Eliot hadn’t moved from his spot on the chaise. He mainly stared at the wall every now and then shooting a dirty glance to the stuffed bear on the opposite side of the room. The whole situation was deeply odd. He almost looked like he was having some sort of paranoid break. In a moment of calm Hardison called over, “Are you waiting up for Parker? Cuz I don’t think she’s coming tonight.” 

“I can wait,” Eliot replied. 

“No you can’t. Last thing I need is that tightass butler bursting in here to find me in your loving embrace again because you oversleep.” 

“Hold up, are you saying last night we were cuddling?” There was a weird menace in his voice as Eliot said the final word. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Hardison asked. 

“I’m fine.” Eliot snapped. 

“Sure. Just go to bed man,” Hardison instructed before returning his attention to the monitor. Eliot didn’t do that, at least not right away. He sat there a few moments longer, crossed the room and picked up the stuffed bear. 

Luckily, Hardison had his back to him for this or he surely would’ve felt Eliot had lost it. Eliot narrowed his eyes at the toy and growled, “You keep your mouth shut.” He shoved the plush in a drawer and announced loudly, “I’m going to sleep.” That got Hardison’s attention. Eliot pulled his shirt up and over exposing his bare chest to the brisk air. His flesh almost instantly puckered under the night air, but that didn’t seem to deter him. He shucked off his pants, stopping short of full nudity this time. Hardison was tempted to make a crack about the fact the man apparently wore briefs, but it was not the time. Eliot pulled up the blanket and flopped his plump ass down on the cushion. 

“What are you doing?” Hardison swiveled to face Eliot who paused confused. “Just get in the bed.” 

“You can have the bed again. Yesterday doesn’t count.” 

“They think we’re a couple now right?” Hardison asked. Eliot answered with a curt nod.”Then we should be sleeping in the same bed, in case we get any more unexpected visitors.” 

“We won’t-“ Eliot assured. 

“It’s not gonna kill us to share a bed. Just stay on your side and keep your damn pants on.” Hardison said before returning his attention to his monitor. Hardison went about his work, manufacturing a haunting deep into the wee hours of the night while Eliot slumbered. 

***

How did this happen… again? Hardison was tucked against Eliot’s chest, snuggled neatly under his arms. It was a weird way to snuggle, face to face. Had this been what Hardison woke up to find? No wonder Hardison seemed so leery of him the other day. Eliot heard the haunting mechanical giggle and steam rose from his ears. That fucking bear. He put it in the drawer, he knew he did. He looked over Hardison’s body and saw it prominently sitting on top of the dresser. He was going to kill Parker. Kill her. Later. There wasn’t time to think about this. 

Now Eliot had to extricate himself without waking Alec, which was a challenging task but not impossible. Hadison’s arm was draped over Eliot’s waist, the tips of his fingers curving just over the brawny man’s hips. He could probably shimmy from under that, or delicately remove it. But there was also the issue of Eliot’s own body, the one that had rebelled without his consent in his sleep. The one that had pulled Hardison skin against his own and tied them in a knot. His left arm was simply slung over Hardison’s waist, easy enough to remove. But his right. His right was pinned beneath the other man. Eliot rolled back his pelvis to slide out from under Hardison’s arm. As he attempted the maneuver he watched the other man’s hand trail down form his hip and land on what he now realized was a very hard bulge. His eye flitted to Hardinson’s crotch for the first time this morning. He too was sporting some serious morning wood, which made Eliot feel a little more comfortable… for some reason?

“Time for cuddles!” The bear exclaimed from across the room. It was jarring, and as it pulled Eliot’s he lost he focus on his maneuver. Hardison slid down onto Eliot’s chest and he woudl be annoyed if the other man didn’t immediately adorably nuzzle into his neck. If he had realized that was his reaction, Eliot might have some questions. But he didn’t seem to realize as the boys muttered in unison, “Time for cuddles.” The good news was that now both of Eliot’s arms were free, but now Hardison’s entire body weight was on his chest. 

Eliot sat there, zenning out for just a beat, until the bear’s laugh rang out again. “Time for kisses!” The bear shouted. Eliot’s eyes went wide…. Did that thing just…? Eliot took a sharp sudden breath. He felt Hardison’s lips on his collarbone. It wasn’t anything wet or aggressive, just gentle butterfly kisses. But it was unmistakeable. Eliot was no longer concerned about waking Hardison. He rolled the other man off him and shot out of the bed. He pounded across the room, swooping the bear up into his clutches. 

“I’m on to you,” he growled. Hardison could be heard groaning in the background. Eliot squeezed the stuffed animal and it happily exclaimed “Time for snuggles!” Unsatisfied Eliot pressed it again… and again… and again. But no matter how much he hit it, the bear wouldn’t demand kisses. He knew what her heard though. 

“Good morning,” Haridson yawned as he stretched out. 

Eliot looked over at him, damn his package seemed even bigger. He shook his head. Focus Eliot. “Does this thing say more than one phrase?” He asked holding up the bear. 

Hardison’s face screwed up in confusion. “That bear like a hundred years old. There’s no way there’s a voice box in that thing.” Eliot’s face drained of all the color. Hardison’s glance evolved to one of concern, “Has it been talking to you?” 

“No, no, of course not.” Eliot stuttered, glancing away from Hardison and staring straight at the ground. It was an odd way to see the strong man. 

***

Eliot was distracted all morning. Luckily he could practically cook a breakfast meal in his sleep. He was not buying this. Hardison must be in on this prank with Parker. They were both messing with him. It was the only explanation. And he’d prove it. He’d smuggled the stuffed bear out in his chef coat pocket. He reached down to check on it periodically. They couldn’t play any games if he kept track of their stupid little toy. “That looks tasty.” 

Eliot let out a startled grunt. Luckily he was able to through the brakes on his defensive instincts before he decked Parker. The master thief was peeking over his shoulder, down into the pan of breakfast potatoes he was sauteeing. She was dressed in the most stereotypical French maid’s outfit imaginable. “What are you wearing?” Eliot asked incredulously. 

“I’m blending.” She replied. 

“Where did you even get that?” 

“I don’t have much time. Hardison said you needed me?” Parker asked bluntly. 

“Yeah, umm,” Eliot found himself pausing. How would he phrase that. What if Parker hadn’t done anything. He’d just feel like such an idiot asking this. And she’d never let him live it down. But… but he knew what he’s seen and heard. He let a hand snake into his pocket. The bear was still there and somehow that gave him some sort of reassurance. “Stop haunting me Parker. It’s not funny.” 

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Parker asked. 

“You’re moving things around in my room when I sleep. I get it. It’s funny just cut it out.”  
“I haven’t been in your bedroom since I got to the castle. What’s moved?” Parker asked.

“I’m serious.” Eliot huffed.

“So am I.” Parker insisted. “Maybe you just misplaced something?” 

“I’m not misplacing anything-“ Eilot insist. 

“Breakfast up?” Seymour called out as he stuck his head through the kitchen door. 

Eliot’s head snapped towards him, “Five minutes.” Seymour nodded and left the room. As Eliot turned back to finish his conversation he found he was again alone. Parker had disappeared to wherever she came from. He let out a loud, low grubble and pulled the bear from his pocket. He wasn’t crazy. This thing moved. This thing talked. This thing was felt and cotton and a voice box and Hardison and Eliot were messing with him somehow. He tossed it onto his cutting board and with a swift chop decapitated it. Sticking his head into the torn fabric he pulled out handfuls and handful cotton, but nothing electronic. No… how…. He looked back over at the door. Parker fucking picked his pocket. She switched it… God damn it! He shouldn’t let her get close.

That’s when the bitter current in the air hit his nose and he realized he let the potatoes go too far. He pulled them off the burner as quick as he could and tossed it down on the counter. SHIT. He looked at the cotton slaughter that had spilled over to the floor. At least he’d never see that stupid bear again.


End file.
